


The Enchantress

by goldensnitch18



Series: Oblivious Daydreaming [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Beauty and the Beast Elements, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-03
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-05-01 11:29:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14519559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldensnitch18/pseuds/goldensnitch18
Summary: It was just a little curse meant to punish those who wronged her. She never expected to regret it. She never expected it to end like this. Written for the Strictly Dramione Movie Fest.





	The Enchantress

As Draco gripped the balcony tightly, overlooking the forest with disdain, he felt his fur recede, vanishing to reveal clean, beautiful, human skin. He didn't even blink. The first time it had happened, the first time she had come to see him, removed the curse, he had attacked her, threatening to murder her with his bare hands, but he had learned. He had learned so much from his little enchantress, most importantly how much she liked her little games. 

“Hello,” he greeted, though she hadn't made a sound. She was there, behind him. He was sure of it. She was the only one capable of ending the curse, turning him from Beast to Man. 

“You tricked a girl into the manor. Are you planning to force her to fall in love with you?” He felt the gentle caress of her fingers down his back and the rush of uncontrollable sensations that racked his body in response. She knew how sensitive he was after she changed him back. She loved to play with him, punish him for something he hardly even understood at this point. 

“I believe that was the only option you gave me, or my staff will be stuck like this forever.” Even in his human form, his voice still carried a growl, or perhaps that was just from speaking to her. He wouldn’t know. She was the only one to have seen him this way in years. 

“Would it really be so terrible?” she whispered, and her breath was hot against his shoulder. 

He turned to face her and was struck by her appearance as always. She had been an old beggar woman that night, the night she ruined his life and the lives of all who had been present, but she had shifted, transformed back into this, into her true self. She was beautiful, sure. Her cheeks were red as roses, her brown hair falling down in loose curls, her body curving in all the right places, but that wasn’t what hit him every single time he saw her. It was her power, her magic.

He had magic, of course. He was born with it, born into one of the oldest magical families actually, his blood as pure as freshly falling snow, but this girl, woman now, had changed all of that. Her abilities went far above anything he had ever seen or heard of before. He had fought her spells tirelessly, searching for an answer, for a way to change everything back, but it was a fruitless search, one he had long given up on. 

“I want my life back,” he told her, doing everything in his power to hold in the fury that bubbled to the surface whenever she was around. 

“Then your father and his friends shouldn’t have ruined mine,” she said, words dripping with poisonous honey. 

“You don’t seem to have suffered from your lack of education.” That was what this was all about, of course. His father and the other governors had refused her just as they refused all the others, and for some insane reason, she had believed that he could do something about it, help her change it all. The idea was utter madness. This was the way it had always been. The old families sent their children to be educated with other students of pure blood. To mingle with a commoner such as his enchantress, no matter her power, was unacceptable. 

“I found my own ways of educating myself,” she agreed. “Do you think she’s pretty?” 

It took him nearly a full minute to realize she was talking about the Weasley girl. He had barely given the girl half a thought since she had refused to eat dinner with him. There was something wrong with that entire family. They were pure of blood - apparently, though he had his doubts - but they lived in a hovel and mingled with the common folk as often as they could. The entire lot were a disgrace to magic, his father had told him so many times as he was growing up. Tonight had been the first time he had met the girl. He couldn’t really remember her name, but she was pretty.

“You know that she is,” he told her, attempting to avoid whatever trap she had been trying to lay for him. 

“They say she is the most beautiful girl in the village.” As she spoke, she took a step forward, and his back hit the railing. Her hand moved up his chest, sending tremors dancing through his body.

“I imagine she is then,” he told her. 

Her head shifted, her eyes meeting his, bright with the fire that burned inside of her. “I suppose she will make a decent match for you then.” 

He could feel his trousers, taut against his erection as she leaned into him, her lips a hair from his. She was the reason he was here, stuck in this place, never truly human except when she came to play with him, never truly a beast. She had tasked him with falling in love and earning love in return, but the closest he had ever gotten was the mix lust and anger she sent shattering throughout his body on these little visits. 

“You don't play fair,” he told her. 

“I never promised to.” She smirked, and he was done. Hands buried in her curls, he pulled her hard towards him as he claimed her lips. The kiss was unforgiving, unyielding with both of them fighting for the upper hand, hesitant to give an inch. Her own hands snaked up his body and into his long blond hair dragging him down deeper into her. She was insane. She had to be, but then, what was he because he was pushing her back to his bedroom, fuck love, fuck the curse. His cock was aching, and it was entirely her fault, her ache to relieve if she was only willing, and she seemed very willing. 

Her dress was entirely too complicated for his state of mind, so he resorted to his magic, popping the lace and buttons with a word growled into her mouth. The magic seemed to encourage her, making her even more fierce in her desire to rip every article of clothing he had on off before they hit the bed. She succeeded.

They were both nude by the time he threw her back. She smiled widely and moved to her knees, refusing to stay down. “I think you would look quite pretty on your back, Draco,” she told him. 

His damn betraying cock twitched at her words, sealing his fate. He crawled up onto the bed and flopped onto his back as if it had been his plan all along to let her ride him. Honestly, it didn't seem like such a horrible prospect as she licked her lips and ran her hands down his legs, moving closer. 

It seemed to take a lifetime for her to plant one knee on either side of his hips, and even then, she lingered, taking her sweet fucking time, controlling everything. She took his hand and placed it at her heat, burying his fingers in the pool gathered there. 

“Fuck,” he murmured, his hips rocking up, cock sliding up her hip. “Fuck,” he repeated as she began to ride his fingers. She was the fucking worst, Merlin's fucking balls the worst, and he wanted her so fucking bad he could think straight, and she knew. She knew exactly what she was doing to him, how she was killing him slowly with each thrust that didn't land on his cock. “I hate you,” he told her finally, and she laughed. 

She was still laughing when she pushed his fingers away. The look of pure fucking bliss on her face as she felt his tip and slowly slid down his shaft made it all worth it, every moment, everything. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She was crazy, sure, but this was everything.

Never before had they been pushed so far. So often they were so close, standing at the edge of the cliff refusing to dive, but tonight was different. Tonight they had snapped, driven into the jump by something … 

He tried to figure out what it was that had changed their dynamic, pushed them to this, but she was hot and wet and tight around his cock. She was making the most incredible sounds as she rode him, her bare breasts bouncing freely as she moaned. He gripped her skin, trying to urge her to go faster, but she did her best to keep her steady rhythm. She was intoxicating. He was drunk on the feel of her wrapped around him, on the sound of her quick, deep breaths, on the image of her hair stuck to her forehead by her sweat. He knew it was wrong. 

He knew he was damning his entire house with each thrust into her, with each moment he let himself look into her eyes, see something burning there, see something entirely unlike her staring back. He looked back furiously, hoping that his eyes could ask her every question he never had been able to utter. She broke the connection first, blocking her eyes as she leaned down to kiss his shoulder. He wrapped his hands around her back, the pads of his fingers digging deep into her flesh as they both shuddered with release. She lay atop him, not moving, her body hot and sweaty against his, the scent of sex filling the room. He closed his eyes against the dark ceiling, moving his hand up to get lost in her hair. 

“Hermione,” he whispered into her ear. He felt her shake against him, and he wondered if she was crying. 

She moved, keeping her face turned as she rolled away from him. “I hope you will be happy with her,” she told him as she pulled at her dress. 

“With who?” he asked, stupidly, until he realized she meant the damn Weasley girl. That girl who had traded places with her father, that girl who the staff were trying to get him to romance. That girl who couldn’t possibly hold a flame to his chaotic enchantress. 

He couldn’t be sure in the dark, but he thought he saw her wipe at her face as something rolled down her cheek, and he wasn’t sure if he should ignore it or mention it. He didn’t want to overthink it, to let his mind create something that wasn’t there, but … 

“She’ll help you break the spell. I know she will,” Hermione whispered, and then she was gone, leaving a crack in her wake. Draco felt the change begin immediately, the tiny hairs across his skin growing thicker and darker as they returned, covering his body in fur. His arms and legs grew, his face would be unrecognizable in less than a minute. He closed his eyes, waiting for the change to end. 

XXX

He could feel himself falling, exhaustion and pain taking over each cell in his mangled body. He would die a beast, betraying his people, condemning them to this life for an eternity. He wondered what would happen to Ginny and her family. She truly had been kind to him. He had tried, tried to love her, to earn her love in return, but he had known it wouldn't happen, that it wasn't meant to happen, because he was a fool. 

It wasn’t Ginny whose face he ached to see as he fell, as feeling seeped away limb by limb. Someway, somehow, he had stopped seeing her as the enchantress who entrapped him and started to see her as Hermione, as his. He could feel her brown hair in his fingertips, remembered the feeling of her skin on his one last time. Laughable, really, that he would fall in love with her, the low born witch who had ruined his life, taken it from him, destroyed everything he was supposed to be. 

Where was she? What was she doing? He hoped she was far away. The people from the village were on a rampage, destroying his house, out for blood from the Beast. If they realized, if someone said something about her, there was nothing to stop them from going after her, the woman who created this vile Beast so close to their village. He knew they would wonder what would stop her from turning them all to monsters, from punishing every last one of them for her pain.

He heard a scream, sharp and clear, and then everything went black. 

XXX

She screamed. The sound was hard and high, shattering, reflecting the shattering of something she had never taken the time to admit was there. He was falling, and she was so far away, and so she screamed, her mind blank, her magic fleeing in the moment she needed it most. And, so, she ran. Her feet beating against the stone floors, her mind ignoring each and every battle around her. 

None of that mattered. 

He was falling. 

Where was the stupid girl? The beautiful girl who was supposed to break the spell? She had seen him dancing with her, seen him give her his mirror, the mirror she herself had given to him, so why wasn't the girl here? Could she possibly not return his feelings? Or, not know what he felt?

She couldn't break the spell on her own. She had tried. So many times she had tried, hoping to release him, to free him from the pain she caused the people inside the castle. She had been out of her mind that day, determined to punish the people who had deemed her less than by taking one of their own and turning him into something they would consider even worse than her, the low born witch who didn’t deserve an education. 

The only problem with that had been when she had slowly realized that there was something different about Draco. He was someone who did not deserve her curse, and so she had begun to try to reverse it, to turn him and his household back into the humans they had once been. Every attempt was fleeting, each one fading when she left his side, returning him back to the beast she had created. She was positive that he thought she was toying with him, turning him back and forth to play with him, torture him that much more, but it wasn’t true. She had done everything, tried everything, but the curse was too strong, the only remedy the one thing she couldn’t create with her magic. She couldn’t bare to tell him the truth about her attempts. She preferred he think the worst of her, hold out hope that she could reverse it if she wanted, than have him realize what she had really condemned him to. 

Hermione flew through the halls, dodging humans, wardrobes, brooms, stone, and more. It was a blur, none of it mattered. She needed to get to him, to the balcony where he had fallen. That idiot from the village had stabbed him. She had seen the blood spreading across his clothes as he fell. She needed the girl, but she didn’t know where she was. The girl surely loved him. She had seen her smiling, seen her moving swiftly across the dance floor with him, matching each step of his.

Finally, she reached his room, running out to the balcony. The girl was there, crying over him, her body shaking as blood seeped into the stones. 

“No!” Hermione screamed. 

Ginny looked up, startled, her face streaked with tears. “Help him!” 

“I don’t …” Hermione fell to her knees, not caring about the pain that shot through them as she moved to his other side. “I can’t …” She put her hands over his chest, trying something, anything that would come to mind, but her magic wasn’t responding, it wouldn’t work. 

“You did this to him!” Ginny shouted. “You did this! Save him!” 

“I …” Hermione sobbed, her throat constricting. “Why isn’t he human? I saw you … you … dancing.” 

Ginny stared at her, eyes hollow, shaking her head. “He doesn’t love me. He never has. I … I don’t know … I think there is someone, but … I don't know who.” 

Hermione stared at her, her heart shattering as the girl she had put all of her hope in admitted that she wasn't going to be able to save him. “Draco …” she said his name through her tears. His chest rose sneakily beneath her fingers, but his eyes were closed, his life obviously fleeing his body. “Please don't leave me,” she whispered. She saw the girl's mouth open across from her, her head turning from the dying Beast to the Enchantress who had cursed him, but she ignored her. 

Instead, she put her hand to his cheek, trying not to look at the blood her fingers left behind. “Draco … I … I’m so sorry. I tried … everything … I never … I'm so sorry … I just … I love you and … I just wanted to turn you back … for years, but I couldn't and I'm so sorry.” She collapsed, not caring that the stupid girl was across from her, or that he was covered in blood, she put her face to his, kissing him softly, salty tears mixing with the rain. “I love you,” she said again, and she felt his chest shudder one final time without rising again. 

She was shaking uncontrollably then, her fingers digging into the remains of his clothes, her face buried in his shoulder. She felt the gentle pressure of a hand on her back, the Weasley girl trying to comfort her, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. He was dead, and it was her fault. She had turned him into this, made him a Beast, made the village fear him. 

She felt the shaking then and was sure somehow the house was collapsing. The fighting must have escalated. She clung closer to him, not caring what happened now, lost in her grief. It took her a few more moments to realize that the body beneath her was shaking, but nothing else was. The girl was pulling her back, saying her name. 

Hermione let her, opening her eyes to see what was happening to him, terrified of what other horrors she would have to endure as punishment for her stupid curse. He was shaking, his body seizing on the floor. He had been dead. She had felt him stop breathing, but as she watched the transformation she had witnessed countless times before began again. She watched as his fur receded, his face changed, his blonde hair returning, his body shrinking to the size of a normal man. He stopped shaking as suddenly as he had begun, and she gasped as his eyes opened. 

“Draco,” she whispered. 

He turned to face her, and she choked on the sob caught in her throat. 

“Hermione,” he whispered back, his voice weak. 

“I ... you were dead,” she told him. 

“I guess I'm not done with you yet,” he replied, wincing. 

“I'm so sorry, Draco. I tried to …”

“I know.” He moved his hand slowly, reaching it up behind her ear and into her hair and pulled her face down, kissing her softly. “I know,” he said again. 

“I'll go find some … help,” Ginny told them,excusing herself from their side. 

“I thought it was her,” Hermione told him. “I didn't want it to be, but I thought …” 

“It was always you. From the beginning, it was never going to be anyone but you,” Draco told her.


End file.
